“It’s about you being exposed.” Dallas released her and refastened his pants. “I like you just the way you are, Lex. I don’t want to put you on a leash. But you stand out, and that’s not safe for you.”
She barely heard the words, all her attention focused on his hands. He was getting good at that, at pulling away when she wanted to bring him closer. At one time, her touch had melted his resistance, and it had been enough. But now…
Distance. She could feel it, a chasm yawning between them, and a blowjob wouldn’t fix it. She’d been so damn careful not to challenge him outright, never to compromise his authority.
Somehow, she’d failed.
Lex couldn’t stop the words that tumbled out. “You don’t want me on a leash, but that’s what they’d like to see, isn’t it? It’s what they understand.” She caught his wrist. “Collar me. Give them the show they need.”
Dallas hauled her down into his lap. “Say that again?”
It sounded like a request, except for the intense thread of command in his voice. “A collar,” she repeated softly. “Not for real, I mean. We’ll know the truth.”
“A collar. For show.” A low laugh shook his chest. “Don’t lie to yourself, Lex. You’re smarter than that. You and I can’t share a bed for show.”
He’d have her on her knees every night, screaming herself hoarse. “I’m not talking about fucking.” She held his gaze. “I’m talking about control. Enough to satisfy anyone who thinks I’m stringing you along by your dick.”
He gave her a too-serious look, ruined only by the twitch of his lips. “Aren’t you?”
She didn’t bother to be careful where she put her knees as she climbed off his lap. “Go ahead and laugh at me, Dallas. Like I give a shit.”
He uncoiled like a spring, shooting half off the couch to drag her against him. This time, he closed his hands around her arms and trapped her, her back to his chest. “This is all my fault. I let you get away with shit none of the others would dare, and you’re so used to it you don’t even realize.”
She struggled, her own fury rising. “Then don’t do me any more fucking favors. Treat me like everyone else.”
“I’d turn anyone else over my damn knee right about now. Settle the hell down.”
Lex stilled, forcing herself to slowly breathe in and out. “Can I go now?”
“No.” His grip eased, caging her without crushing her. “We haven’t discussed the collar yet. It’s a good idea, if we can do it without killing each other.”
“It’s not the only solution.” She craned her neck to look back at him. “I can find someone else. You didn’t want me, simple as that.”
“I think we both know that’s bullshit.”
Which part? “Then you’re stuck with me, Declan.”
“Mmm.” He rubbed his thumbs over the backs of her arms, stroking in slow, lazy circles. “The collar might be for show, but I’m not a noble man. You know you can’t fuck anyone else while you’re wearing it.”
She shivered. “It wouldn’t be very convincing if I did. Unless you were with me.”
“And I will be.” Dallas pressed his mouth to her ear. “Put yourself in my hands, Lexie. Just a little. Let me keep you safe, and I’ll make it worth anything you have to give up.”
You had to have something in order to give it up, and what did she have? Desire, a longing so primal it felt as if it had always been a part of her. His lips grazed her ear again, and Lex released a shaky breath. “How will you do that?”
“You’ll see, love. Soon enough, you’ll see.”
Chapter Eleven
Jasper was halfway into a bottle when someone pounded on his door. Noelle’s voice followed, low and intent. “Please let me in. I forgot to put on pants.”
Of course. Groaning, he rubbed a hand over his face and opened the door. “What the fuck are you doing with no pants on?”
“Bren put me to bed.” She ducked under his arm without waiting for an invitation, padding into his room on bare feet. “I got up after he was gone, but I’ve never been to your room before. I knocked on three wrong doors.”
Jesus Christ, she was in her underwear, tiny black panties that bared more than half of her ass. “Well, here you are. What do you want?”
She wandered over to his punching bag and traced her fingers over the leather. “This is the first time we’ve been alone together. In private, I mean. You never touch me when we’re alone together, only in front of other people.”
He’d thought it the most expedient way to cut through the inexperience she sometimes wore like armor. “You don’t like it?”
“I like it when you touch me in front of other people.” She wandered around the punching bag, dragging her hand across it until she’d made a full circle and was facing him. She was still drunk, sleepy-eyed and loose-tongued, and she kept talking, raw truth tumbling past her lips. “I like it more than I feel like I should. Sometimes I wish you’d just tell me I’m bad. Take me over your knee and spank me and let me pretend I’m atoning for my sins instead of committing a new one by wanting your hand on my ass until it’s all I can think about.”
Maybe it wasn’t a hurdle to get past, an obstacle to surmount. Maybe Ace was right, and the punishment was part of her pleasure. “Bend over the table.”
Her breathing hitched. “Don’t tease me.”
He swept his arm across the table, shoving his keys, wallet, and books to the floor. “Now, Noelle.”
Wide-eyed, she crossed the room and bent forward until her elbows rested on the table. Her scant tank top slid up her spine, revealing the generous curve of her hips and how skimpy her panties really were.
He took another swig of whiskey and set the bottle aside. “Is this what you want?” he asked, teasing his fingertips above the top edge of her panties. “For me to spank your ass until you can’t sit down, tell you how naughty you are for wanting it?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Only you don’t want me to feel dirty. I can’t even do this right.”
“I don’t want you to believe everything those bastards in the city told you. But if you like it…” He scratched her skin lightly and dragged her panties down. “If you really like it, Noelle, I’ll punish you.”
She shifted her weight uncertainly. “I don’t know why I want it. I don’t know how to find out without doing it.”
He stared down at her pale skin, but he didn’t touch her again until he hit her, his palm smacking hard against her flesh. Noelle gasped, sucking in air before releasing it in a hungry, helpless little noise.
Instead of slapping her this time, he wound his other hand in her hair and pulled her head back. “What do you like about it? Tell me.”
“I don’t know,” she whispered, scraping her nails over the table. “It hurts, but not really. And I don’t—” She bit her lip.
He slid his hand around to the front of her throat. “You don’t what?”
She swallowed. “I don’t have to feel guilty for liking the shame, because that’s the point.”
All twisted up, and he’d been a fool to think he could unravel it. “Why can’t you just like it?”
Noelle let out a frustrated noise and arched up on her toes, practically wiggling her ass at him. “Maybe I could if you’d do it.”
And he’d do it…if she just liked it. He’d had lovers who got off on pain before, but never one who used it as an excuse. “I didn’t say you could move.”
Noelle scoffed, no trace of the shy, demure little city girl left in her eyes as she glared back at him. She was drunk enough to throw caution to the wind and she did, taunting him. “What are you going to do? Spank me?”